


We're All Friends Here

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-17
Updated: 2010-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He waits until the Winchesters have vacated the motel room before he calls him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're All Friends Here

  
Castiel had been wrong. Whatever intentions he might have had of trying to find Balthazar they're all unnecessary. Because the delicate hum just at the edge of his senses tells him that Balthazar won't need to be found.

He waits until the Winchesters have vacated the motel room before he calls him out.

"Balthazar."

"You're still angry with me," Balthazar says from where he's now lounging on the bed.

Castiel isn't sure he knows how _not_ to be angry any more. But now there's a layer of disappointed hurt there too. It's heavy and it resists all Castiel's attempts to name it and file it neatly away.

"You abandoned the cause," he points out - or perhaps accuses, tones are harder than he remembers to get right. "How could you expect anything else."

Balthazar's sigh is immediate, a long rush of air through his nose which is so easy, so human.

"But I didn't abandon you personally, Castiel, at least not on purpose."

"You simply had better things to do." Castiel doesn't bother trying to control his voice, there's no one here to hurt. It's been almost a year since he's had to talk, since he's had to use words on their own. He is indeed _rusty._

Balthazar looks sympathetic and something about that rankles.

"Not better - no, not better, just different."

"I needed you," Castiel says roughly, which is nothing but the truth.

Balthazar pushes himself to his elbows.

"But you didn't, you were doing marvellously on your own. The work, the real work, you'd already torn it all up, let it fall wherever and however it would."'

Castiel frowns because there's obvious pride in the words. Pride that's out of place, because that's nothing like what he intended. "I agonised over every decision I made -"

"Which is what made it real," Balthazar insists, then laughs, and there's a quiet, perverted joy in it which Castiel doesn't understand. There's a stark, uncomfortable change here. But underneath it all he's still _Balthazar,_ all edges and sharpness, but still fluid in a way Castiel has never quite managed. Not even when he fell. Not even when he could hear the sound of his own blood in his veins.

Balthazar has always managed to fit, to play whatever role he's given. The idea that he has chosen this flavour of rebellion as his own. It genuinely hurts, in a way Castiel is far too familiar with. In a way he never wanted to ever become used to.

"Balthazar." It's warning, but Castiel already knows it's too deep, too familiar. There's just enough space for the other angel to slide himself in.

"Castiel," Balthazar counters and there's so much more than just his name there.

"What you're doing, what you're playing with, it's wrong. You've always pushed too close to the edge, Balthazar, if you go too far -"

Balthazar makes a noise, low and chiding, drowning out his words. He pushes himself up off the bed, drifts forward like he's been moving in his body for a thousand years. It's all elegance and familiarity. Castiel hates it. He hates it because Balthazar wears his human form like it's more than a vessel. He wears it like it's _him._

"Castiel, let's pretend we're still friends shall we, just for now."

Castiel sighs, exasperated in a way that's far too human.

"We are friends," he says, no matter what - no matter what comes after he refuses to be the one who says otherwise. He's had more than enough of the taste of betrayal.

Balthazar tilts his head to the side, trying to read him and Castiel pulls in all the senses he has, tries to stay remote, aware that it probably says more that he's resisting so hard.

"Castiel," Balthazar says and there are layers there as well. He reaches a hand out, lets his fingers twine slowly, curiously through Castiel's.

Castiel looks down at their joined hands, feeling the familiar pull and twist of angel meeting angel. The warm, strangely numbing barrier of skin is barely a barrier at all.

He doesn't even think of pulling away.

Bathazar hums in his throat, thumb sliding over the back of Castiel's knuckles. "I've never touched another angel like this before, and humans are so terribly breakable if you're not careful."

Castiel frowns, fights not to let his own fingers slide curiously over Balthazar's skin. "I wouldn't know, I don't make a habit of indulging my baser desires with them."

Balthazar's quiet sound of amusement makes his frown deepen

"Did you let _him_ touch you like this?"

Castiel doesn't need to ask who Balthazar's talking about. He says nothing which in itself says everything.

Balthazar's fingers tighten and Castiel feels it, feels the twisting press of it all the way through him.

"I'm jealous," Balthazar admits, slow and surprised. "I've never been jealous before. I don't think I like it at all."

 _~Would you let me touch you like that, Castiel?~_

Castiel inhales at the intimacy of the unspoken question, a confusing mixture of angelic bluntness and human subtlety.

It's disarming and he resists the pull, the familiar intimacy, instinctively.

Balthazar tuts at him.

"Stop sulking, I genuinely want to apologise."

"Apologising does not require nudity,” Castiel says peevishly.

"It does if you're very, very sorry," Balthazar says and his smile is nothing like an angel should ever wear.

Castiel sighs, but he doesn't object when Balthazar tugs him towards the bed.


End file.
